Lamentations - A Love Story
by Ahkileez
Summary: This story is about loss. A man that's lost a wife he's been married to for most of his life, and known for almost a century.


LAMENTATIONS

I do not, in whole nor in part, own Star Trek or any of it's trademarked thingamajiggers. Star Trek and the Star Trek Universe is the sole property of Paramount Pictures Entertainment.

**LAMENTATIONS  
**=/ A Love Story \=  Chapter 1 

Its name is Vea. _Was_ Vea. 

To the people who had been born under her warm caress, her name meant "Lifegiver." But the Leokau people were gone now, spirited away by a Federation mercy mission to save them from a dying star system. All that lay behind were six small planets, swiftly growing cold in the absence of Vea's light. 

Vea was sick, dying a star's death. Deep inside her, something broke. She was no longer able to be the beautiful red-yellow Lifegiver that she had been. Fusion had slowed down in her core, and slowly Vea the Lifegiver became Vea the Brown Dwarf.

It had taken a hundred years for the star to die. Her people, the Leokau, were now thriving once again on a colony world a few star systems over. Life had gone on for them.

To the planets left behind, their bleak future consisted of the inevitable. Slowly Vea's grip on them would loosen enough for the planets to slip out of her gravitational pull. When that happened, her six children would spin off into the unknown oblivion of deep space.

=/\=

The _Starship Isis_ orbited Vea at an altitude of nine thousand kilometers. She shone faintly, spattered in the sick red light of Vea. Light that bore disturbing similarity to the color of drying blood. 

A massive vessel, the _Isis _was part of a new breed of long-range exploratory vessels. At over a kilometer in length, and covered in silvery hull plating, she effervesced in the dark red light. Her shields shimmered in a kaleidoscopic dance as masses of X-rays from Vea's death throes impacted on them. 

Like Vea, _Isis_ had her own children to take care of. 

"Captain." 

"Yes?" Kendi asked from her command chair. She pulled her gaze from the viewscreen –from the image of the dying star – long enough to glance over at her tactical officer. 

The Cardassian officer met her gaze. "We have an incoming ship on intercept," he said in formal tone. His gray skin and grayer personality had come to mean a lot to Kendi over the years she had served with Ekhem. 

"One of ours?" the captain asked. 

"Yes ma'am, Vulcan design and registry." 

_About time_, Kendi Ahkileez thought. "Signal her, Lieutenant. Inform her that she has permission to come aboard. Where do we have the most space, Ruiz?" 

The human navigator looked up from her station. "To accommodate a ship that size? Shuttlebay Three, Captain."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Ekhem, direct her to Shuttlebay Three. I'm going to meet that ship." 

Her Vulcan first officer watched her without comment she rose to leave. She flashed him a disarming smile and pat him on the shoulder reassuringly. "You have the bridge, Commander." 

Kendi fled the bridge with controlled haste and quickly stepped in to the turbolift, directing it to the shuttlebay. On a selfish whim, she locked the lift so that it would get to its destination without stopping to pick up any more passengers. She wasn't in the mood for company. 

She rode in silence, ticking off the seconds in her mind as the lift car rocketed through the bowels of the ship toward the aft section. With her head bowed, her shoulder cropped hair fanned out like raven wings to hide her face from view.

Ice-blue eyes stared at her shoes. 

The lift stopped and pinged at her to make its point. She took an extra moment to compose herself before unlocking the door and advancing in to the shuttlebay. 

All around her, crew –_her_ crew- were hard at work, maintaining the ship's small fleet of support craft. As the smallest of the shuttlebays, Bay Three was used mainly as a repair facility and auxiliary storage, so it always had plenty of extra space. Until now. 

What a copper monstrosity the _T'Sel_ was. With color like that of rust, and angular features that seemed to protrude for the pure purpose of sticking some poor Cyclops in his one good eye, the _T'Sel_ insulted the smooth lines of the Starfleet shuttles around her.

_It is functional_, she was sure she would be told;_ it does not have to be attractive_. 

Curious eyes followed her progress toward the ship. The ship coming in was enough of a curiosity, but then the captain herself coming to meet it… 

Kendi stood a respectable distance from the hatch and watched as it irised open and the gantry slid down to meet the deck with a soft thump. A pair of robed figures appeared in the hatchway, shrouded in shadow from the light behind them. With little hesitation, the shorter of the two advanced down the gantry and into the light of the bay. 

With a will of their own, Kendi's feet carried her toward her sister.

The hood of Zavvia's robe fell back when Kendi hugged her. "I'm so glad you're here. What took you so long, Zavvia? And who's this? Tarik? Come here, nephew," said Kendi in one long breath. 

"Kendi, please. Your crew," Zavvia admonished. Kendi let her sister go quickly, blushing.

"Are they looking?" Kendi asked, still looking at her sister. Zavvia nodded. "Watch this." A conspiratory smile crossed Captain Ahkileez's lips before she turned to look at the crew who had been looking at her. 

As if by magic, dozens of eyes found something more interesting to look at. A shuttle window, the floor, the ceiling, a broken tool. Anything but the captain. 

"Now you are showing off," Zavvia said, deadpan.

"Yeah, I know." She was smiling still, but it widened as her nephew stepped around Zavvia and came in to view. She hugged Tarik too, just as fiercely as she had his mother. The _Isis_ kept her out of the core systems so much that her family grew around her without her ever knowing. 

Tarik was a much lighter shade of brown than his mother and did not have her burgundy eyes. Instead, he stared back at her with the soft brown eyes of his father. Tuven had died a few years after Tarik was born, and he had grown up with only Zavvia as company. He went everywhere his mother went and she seemed to like it that way. Kendi thought that Zavvia thought of Tarik as a substitute for the husband she lost. 

It was a sad thing. But Kendi had her fill of sad things now, so she smiled at him; knowing he wouldn't smile back. "Welcome aboard the _Isis_, Tarik." 

"Thank you, Aunt. It is an impressive ship. I surveyed it as we approached."

"Well, if you're good, I'll arrange a tour for you." She frowned after she said it. She had caught it after, realizing that she was talking to him like a child. The last time she had seen him he was just fifteen. So young. Now he was twenty. 

Shrugging, she turned back to Zavvia.

"I would like to see him," Zavvia answered, unasked. 

"Of course." 

=/\=

Kendi led the procession of sister and nephew back out of the shuttlebay and in to the lift. Unsought, the cold wet cling of despair descended on the trio during the ride. They rode in dread silence. It was oppressive. Stifling. 

 Zavvia, the eldest of the Ahkileez children. She stood, stiff and cold, like a woman-shaped statue carved from brown Vulcan marble. What she wore was no surprise to Kendi. Typical, for scientists from Vulcan. The robes were modestly adorned and functional, a dark and not quite blue color that soothed the eye. Outside the robe, well, she had not changed much there either. She still kept her hair cut short. Somehow, Zavvia's haircut and her upswept eyebrows made her burgundy stare more severe. There was something… Kendi couldn't pin it down. 

"How is he?" she asked finally. Kendi glanced over at her sister, surprised by the utterance. 

"He's about as well as you'd expect," she answered somberly, "which isn't very well at all." 

Kendi took a deep breath, cupping her hands behind her. "It took some doing to get him from the old house. He didn't want to leave. Well that's what he told me anyway." She closed her eyes, squeezing back a tear before going on. "I had to get special dispensation to use the _Isis_. However, since we were off rotation and just due for resupply, it wasn't too hard to get the request though. In the end, I had to get Uncle Randy to talk some sense in to him." 

Her voice started to choke up and she squeezed her eyes shut again. 

Mercifully, she didn't have to speak again. They had arrived. 

The procession exited the lift and head down the corridor to the VIP quarters. Tarik lagged a little behind them, curious about the things around him. They didn't bother to wait on him. He knew better than to let them get too far out of sight. He could find them easy enough if he needed to. He could just ask the computer for directions. 

The two women made their way down the corridor in long strides. It was nearly impossible to peg them as sisters. Whereas, Zavvia bore most of the features of their father's first wife, Kendi looked more like his second. She had her mother's blue eyes, and the vestigial Klingon ridges on her forehead. Her skin was a lighter shade of brown than Zavvia's, closer to Tarik's, and her frame was smooth and slight – an image of quiet power. Her facial features were an unusual mix, but seemed to merge almost as they had been meant to be. Soft Klingon forehead ridges flowed into smaller ones at the bridge of her nose – another gift from her mother. The most prominent feature from her father's genes was the eyebrows like Zavvia's, and the pointed elfin ears. 

A forced smile appeared on Kendi's lips as she perked up and put on a mask of levity. Two Bajoran members of her security team stood as volunteer honor guards alongside the doors to the VIP quarters.

"Sel," she said, approaching the door and nodding to the both of them, "Deril. Open the door please. I have some guests for the admiral." 

Sel returned her nod curtly and stepped to the side. His partner did the same. Then he tapped in a simple three-stroke code into the door lock and they hissed open. 

Before stepping in, she gestured to Zavvia. "Boys, my nephew is exploring a bit and has lagged behind us. He's wearing robes similar to my sister's here, so please let him when he arrives." The two men nodded again in response. "Come on, Zavvia." 

The two women entered the lavishly equipped quarters, reserved for ambassadors and people of high-note. There were few accoutrements that it did _not_ have. What it _did _have was too numerous to mention. 

The _Isis_ was equipped with six such apartments, and more than twice as many lesser ones for support staff and functionaries of visiting elite. All of the six were equally equipped, but decked out in different color schemes. Some species were very sensitive to colors. This one was wore shades of blue and accommodating colors. There was no reason for it. Kendi just liked blue and she had picked the quarters. 

The first thing they noticed was the low lighting. It didn't bother either of them, since they both had reasonably sharp lowlight vision. Nevertheless, it wasn't expected.

"Oh no…" Kendi picked up a sound. So did Zavvia, but she wasn't immediately sure. Kendi was. 

The two women quick-walked across the expansive apartment toward the bedrooms. Their feet didn't seem to touch the blue-gray carpeting since Kendi set the pace. And it was a quick one. Kendi was muttering under her breath, and Zavvia: quiet but following easily. 

David, a little small for his five years, and Saschel, a very precocious three, was climbing over the mountain of a man that was their grandfather. 

"What are you doing?" Kendi asked, staring down her children. David froze in place. Saschel, well, she kept going. "Saschel, get off him. Now, please. You too David." 

The two got off their grandfather and sat on the bed flanking him. 

"How did you two get in here?" Kendi gave them the withering glare she had learned from her mother. She had lots of experience with it. It had been used often enough on herself and siblings. 

David was tightlipped, so she turned her attention to Saschel. "Daddy brought us," she bubbled enthusiastically. She liked being helpful. _Mama's little snitch._ Kendi smiled. 

"Yes, well I'll talk to your father about this later." She took them both by the hand and helped them off the bed. Turning to Zavvia, she saw a solution standing right behind her. "David, Saschel, this is Tarik, your cousin. He's going to look after you for a while. He's going to play with you too, right Tarik?" 

The young man who had just walked in seemed somewhat taken aback by the impromptu pronouncement. One of his slanted brows lifted in momentary confusion, but he quickly adapted. "As you wish, Aunt."

Both Kendi and Zavvia watched the children walk out with Tarik; tugging on his hands in different directions. He would be fine. 

Behind them, their grandfather was watching too. Zavvia turned to him first. 

"Are you well Father?" she asked, stepping over to him. Her robe billowed out around her a bit as she crouched to eye level with him. Their father was a tall man, so she didn't have to crouch far. 

Identical eyes looked back at Zavvia's, glancing occasionally at Kendi as well. Unlike Zavvia's, though, Jyg'Lo Ahkileez's eyes were bloodshot. Light emerald strands of vessels radiated from the burgundy iris. Kendi wasn't sure when her father had last slept. 

"I'm all right, Zavvia," he croaked out, and then returned his gaze to Kendi. "You didn't have to make them leave. I was enjoying their company." 

"They're so young. So full of life." Their father started to drift off again. He'd been in and out of a cycle of depression ever since they left Earth. 

"Dad," Kendi said softly, moving to sit beside him. "Are you really okay? You haven't been eating. Or sleeping. You're a mess, Dad." Jyg'Lo didn't answer. He just sat there; eyes closed, head bowed, shoulders slumped. 

Zavvia hadn't moved so much as a millimeter. Her eyes were rived to the same spot, even though Jyg'Lo's eyes were no longer there. This close, it was easy for Kendi to feel Zavvia's probe.

This close, it was even easier for Kendi to feel her father's rebuke. He threw Zavvia out of his mind with dangerous ease. "Not now, Zavvia. Damn it, not now." His words were quiet, but hard and unmistakable. He didn't bother to look up, or even open his eyes. 

Growing up had been a difficult experience for Zavvia, who followed the ways of C'thia. She had never achieved Kolinahr – the epitome of emotion suppression – but she had become a fine Vulcan in her own way. Even so, she was more prone to subtle emotional response, since she had such an emotional family. 

Zavvia's eyes widened a little from the pain of her father's rebuke. But the mental pain was easy enough to ignore. The emotional pain cut deeper and left a colder scar. 

Kendi frowned at her sister and slipped closer to Jyg'Lo, placing a hand on his broad back, rubbing it tenderly. "Dad, look, you need to get out of this funk. I'm hurting too. Zavvia's hurting. But you can't stay like this." 

Jyg'Lo was shaking his head now.

Kendi started to grasp at straws. "We could have dinner together, just you, me, and Zavvy. That'll be good, right Dad? That'll make you feel better." 

"No. No. No—"

"Dad…"

"No! No, Kendi, No! She's gone! What's going to make that right? What could possibly make me feel 'better' ever again?" He was shouting. He probably didn't even realize. His eyes were glistening with tears that refused to fall. 

He shrugged off her hand angrily and rose to his feet, almost bowling Zavvia over. Luckily, she got out of his way in time. Fuming, he stormed out away from the bed and door adjoining the study beyond. If he had had a door to slam, he would have broken it off the hinges. Without that luxury, he simply locked the door. 

Kendi watched him go, feeling helpless. Her ire was still nice and stoked, however.

"You could have helped me, you know," Kendi seethed at her sister. "I was trying to get him out of that funk and you just stood there." Zavvia turned her calm visage on Kendi. 

"What could I have said?"

"Anything, Zavvia, anything. But instead you choose silence, like that's going to help."

"There was nothing I could have done to assist you. Moreover, adding my argument would just have angered him further. It was most logical to–"

"Shut up! Shut up about Logic, I _don't_ want to hear that," Kendi bit back. She suddenly felt exhausted. "I sometimes wonder if you really can feel anything anymore, you know?" 

Sighing tiredly, Kendi got to her feet, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She began quietly, "Dad's probably in there breaking something right now, and we're out here arguing."

"Mom's dead, Zavvia. She's not coming back." 

Kendi stepped around Zavvia, heading for the door. "You know," she muttered, hesitating a little without looking back. "I kind of hope you can't feel what I feel. You're better off."

She disappeared through the door for parts unknown – just in time to miss the tears rolling down Zavvia's face. 


End file.
